


Mother

by littlelionlady



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Brothers Rivalry, Black Family Drama, Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Brothers, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Ficlet, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Regulus Black, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Feels, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Walburga Black Bashing, Young Regulus Black, Young Sirius Black, feels kinda, no doubt about it, rated t for swearwords, regulus is so bad at being a slytherin, regulus swear a lot for a 13 year old, sirius is still worse, walburga black psychologically damaged her sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 21:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20803439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelionlady/pseuds/littlelionlady
Summary: [He looks down at the gold-stripped red of Sirius' tie, aware of the twisted grimace he presents. He looks back up into his brother's eyes, unsure of how to hide it or even if he wants to.It just highlights their differences. The resoluteness of their paths one day diverging, perhaps, no, probably to never meet again. It would be sooner rather than later. He knows it, looking at his brother - all red and gold and brave and stupid. One day soon, he will lose his brother.]If two roads diverge in a yellow wood, well, Regulus can't even finish that sentence because if his mother found out he knew muggle poetry, he would be crucio'd into next week. Sirius though? Sirius would have shouted the poem from the tree tops, Walburga be damned. And that's just where their differences start.





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back with a brand new track. A fresh hell of angst for you all. This started at a big ole ficlet, and then I let [Wintershusband](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintershusband) near it and we have this. It was really interesting to me to see how our writing styles are different, and our characterisations are different. 
> 
> Ultimately, I took creative license and you poor mfs have this. 
> 
> My fascination with Sirius and Regulus's relationship has gone on for a really long time; Sirius never mentions his brother, and then it was a major shock to me to find out R.A.B was Regulus, who was a known Death Eater and turned his back, knowing he would die. To me, that is the ULTIMATE Gryffindor power move, and it makes me wonder if Sirius chose Gryffindor, and the hat went to do the same to Reg, only for him to ask for Slytherin (oh shit, now I gotta write that too). 
> 
> Either way, growing up in the same house would have been tough; because "Our choices are what make us who we truly are." (Thanks Dumbleydude) and because Walburga Black 100 fucking % abused her sons. 
> 
> Anyway, have a snapshot of all of this. 
> 
> Title based on Florence + the Machine's 'Mother'.

_ Mother, make me a big grey cloud, so I can rain on you things I can’t say out loud. _

*

“Why can't you just do as Mother says?” Regulus hisses at Sirius, shoving him slightly backwards by his shoulder and grimacing at the lurid red that fills his vision as his older brother’s tie flaps in his face. 

“Because what she says is wrong!” he retorts. 

Reg shakes his head. Fucking Gryffindors. 

Sirius seems to think he can still love his little brother, even though he makes it very clear that Reg is nothing more than a _ baby snake _ , spitting the words at him in the hallways. But Regulus also know that Potter would not fight Sirius on these matters, that he would do that stupidly _ lion _thing and back Sirius up, even when he’s wrong. The Potter’s don’t care about blood status, and Regulus is quietly jealous that it probably doesn’t infest their ancestral home the same way it seeps through his. Reg had heard Sirius' rants about it at their mother enough times by now to have it memorised. And he envies it, a little, quietly, in the darkest and most covert parts of his little green heart.

“How can you know that?” To anyone who didn’t know Regulus, they'd assume he was angry. But Sirius still knows his brother, barely. And he knows that look - Regulus is scared. Everything Sirius had said, was saying went against all they had been taught. Blood purity was essential to the survival of magic: anyone with blood less than pure and the blood traitors who married them diluted the overall power of the wizarding world and sabotaged the next generation. They did not deserve to hold wands. The world itself declared them unclean through their weak magic.

_ Filthy, _ his mother would hiss at the beginning of each and every break, scrubbing her sons down immediately upon returning from Hogwarts, washing and rewashing their clothes, hanging Regulus’s clothes in the sun and hiding Sirius' reds far away in the vain hope of mildew and moths, _ Utterly filthy. _

They still wear those uniforms now, blacks and greys easily broken up by green and red. Regulus knows it is only a few short hours until their mother seeks them out and demands the clothes for their ritual cleansing. But for now, their colours remain their own, highlighting their profound differences; in lifestyle, beliefs, mannerisms. Their differences in choice.

Sirius' touches his arm, insistent on drawing his gaze back. Regulus is struck by how alike they look now, aware he’s catching up to his brother in stature. He's not a child anymore; even at thirteen, Regulus is only a few centimetres shorter than Sirius, although plumper in his face, cheekbones less angular and eyes more sunken than Sirius’s are. 

Sirius leans forward ever so slightly, “What are you so afraid of Reg? That she’ll hear you? That she’ll turf you out?” 

Fucking _ Gryffindors. _

Regulus huffs and looks away so Sirius can’t see his face, won’t see the sting as his eyes well up. He nods once, sharp and jerky, knowing he lacks all of Sirius’s bravado, and wondering, not for the first time, where the hell it came from. He gasps a little, and what little is left of his breath and thoughts comes out as “and you.” 

Sirius shrugs, “Would that be such a bad thing?” 

Regulus’ gaze shoots back to his older brother’s, terror dilating his pupils, eyelashes clumped together and wet. The tear does not drop, although it threatens; Sirius has a look on his face as though he is somewhat impressed with his brother’s self-control, and it makes Regulus’s stomach twist. Reg still lacks the ability to mask his expressions, which seems to come so naturally to every other Black, just like their father. Surely he should be far better at it than Sirius, it is a Slytherin trait after all. And he is the one standing here wearing green.

He looks down at the gold-stripped red of Sirius' tie, aware of the twisted grimace he presents. He looks back up into his brother's eyes, unsure of how to hide it or even if he wants to.

It just highlights their differences. The resoluteness of their paths one day diverging, perhaps, no, probably to never meet again. It would be sooner rather than later. He knows it, looking at his brother - all red and gold and brave and _ stupid _. One day soon, he will lose his brother.

Sirius' face softens into a shape that Reg can’t quite decipher before it is gone and he is pulled into the warm embrace of his brother's arms, Sirius' chin planted firmly among his wiry black hair, a soft murmur. “It’s alright kid.”

Regulus is briefly slammed into anger.

_ Fucking Gryffindors. _

The hug is over as quickly as it had started, Regulus’ breath leaving him in a flash of anger, and returning almost as quickly as Sirius crushes his rib cage and then releases him. 

“We’re alright, right?” 

Regulus nods, squaring his shoulders, not trusting himself with words. Lying is another Slytherin trait Regulus is yet to master, even in his third year, but he has mastered the art of silence. Where the truth cannot be uttered, silence would always hold him instead.

He hears his mother’s voice in his head, _ Don’t slouch! Stand like a Black, Regulus! Be proud of your heritage. Be proud of who you are. _

A weight within his chest pushes deeper and automatically he pulls his shoulders back, drawing himself to his full height and meeting his brother’s eyes. Sirius thinks the same thing and right before his eyes, Reg watches as his brother makes the discernably conscious choice to draw in on himself, to slouch against the wall like his legs won’t hold him up on their own. He feels his mouth tighten and he thinks, for a brief moment, that maybe Sirius was never a Black. 

But no, he sees it in Sirius’s features; the darkness of his eyes and hair, and rounded strength of his jaw bleeding into a corded neck and high collarbones. He has the Black snottiness in him too, a posh accent that barely ever surfaces now, even as he makes conscious efforts to speak like James fucking Potter. 

“We’ll be alright when you stop fighting with Mother.”

Sirius shrugs. Regulus knows what that means, that hell would freeze over before Sirius stopped fighting. Secretly he knows that the day Sirius stops will be his last. And like his favourite puzzles, that secret holds another:

He hopes, desperately, clandestinely, _ furtively, _that Sirius' days far outnumber their mother's. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr! [thelittlelionlady](https://thelittlelionlady.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi!


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